Dust to Dust
by poetrygrrl39
Summary: I was never happy with Seeing Red in Season 6. The attempted rape, the death of Tara, etc. So here's what I think should have happened instead. Continues in Nightmares.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: The characters belong to Joss Whedon, I'm just borrowing them for a while. _

Xander backed his way in through the door, both hands occupied carrying two bags of freshly sharpened stakes. He set one bag down at the bottom of the stairs, shaking his head. Living in Sunnydale, you would think the Summers women – of all people – would have learned to lock their doors. He twisted the deadbolt closed with a satisfying "click."

"Thump!" He spun around. The noise had come from somewhere upstairs.

"Buffy? Dawn? Willow?" he called softly. One hand came to rest on the banister of the stairs, sliding up until it met an obstacle. Spike's coat. He clenched the leather in his fist, feeling the blood rush to his face. Damn it. She had sworn that was over.

Clutching the coat, he started up the stairs quietly, forgetting that he still had a bag of stakes in his hand. He didn't know what he would find at the top; his stomach roiled at the thought of seeing Spike and Buffy together. Anya had been bad enough.

"Spike, stop!" he heard Buffy half-scream. Dropping the coat to the stairway, he forgot silence and thundered up the stairs, throwing open first Buffy's bedroom door, then the bathroom door.

Time stopped. Buffy was on her back on the floor, Spike on top of her. But this wasn't the scene Xander had half expected. Buffy was struggling with Spike and Spike, Spike was…

"Oh my God," Xander breathed out. He charged into the room, forcing Spike away from the half-naked Slayer, who clutched her bathrobe closed at the neck and sobbed, scuttling back from the two men. Xander felt as if something inside of him had exploded, like the volcanoes he used to make for science fairs.

He slammed Spike into the wall, feeling the fabric of his shirt rip.

"Damn it, boy, get off me!" Spike yelled. Xander felt as if everything was turning red around him and he slammed Spike's head back into the wall. Again and again. Spike tried to hit back, but that fired the chip in his head, causing him more pain.

"Xander, stop!" he heard Buffy scream.

Slowly, he turned to look at her, hands still buried in the fabric of Spike's shirt. She was standing in the doorway, clutching her robe. But he could see the bruises on her face, on her legs were the robe gaped. He looked back at Spike, realizing that the vampire was cowering away from him.

"This is what you call love, you monster?" Xander screamed in his face. "Is this what you call love, Buffy?" he didn't mean to shout at her, but he knew he had when she cringed slightly, then her face grew stiff.

Xander backed away from Spike, his foot brushing against the bag of stakes he had dropped. He stared at the stakes, then at Spike, who was brushing himself off with every appearance of being nonchalant.

"You may not know this about your precious Slayer, Harris, but she likes a bit of the rough and tumble, don't you pet?" Spike drawled. "Like your blushing bride, a bit."

Xander felt the blood rushing to his face and he grabbed a stake out of the bag, slamming it into Spike's chest before the vampire could even move.

"No!" Buffy screamed behind him. Spike's form exploded in a cloud of dust and there was a clink when a computer chip hit the tile. "Xander, what did you do?" she demanded, grabbing his arm. They stared at the pile of dust, the chip resting on top.

Xander shook her off. He turned and looked into her eyes. "I did what should have been done years ago. I killed a monster, I saved a friend. I think we're done here." Seizing a garbage can, he scooped the dust that had been Spike into it and slammed it down on the tile.

Blindly, he walked out of the room, hearing Buffy gasp behind him. She probably would never speak to him again. He knew Dawn wouldn't – she had had a crush on Spike for years. Willow and Tara and Giles would understand. Anya wouldn't.

Xander squared his shoulders as he started down the stairs. He had done what he had to do. Even if it lost him her friendship….He heard footsteps behind him and turned, facing the Slayer. She was pale, but she wasn't crying. He noticed idly that the bruises on her face were already lightening. Yay for Slayer healing.

"You destroyed Spike," she said, avoiding his eyes.

"He was raping you," he said flatly. "He was evil, and he needed to die. Don't give me any chip lectures," he added, holding up his hand when her mouth opened. "I know you probably hate me right now. But, I hope, in time you'll understand what I did. If not…well, at least you're safe."

Buffy took two steps forward. She was on a higher step then he was, so even though she normally was chin-high on him, today they were eye to eye. She stared into his brown eyes. Xander steeled himself for a blow, hoping she wouldn't hit him hard enough to knock him down the stairs.

She threw her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder incoherently.

Xander blinked, then patted her on the back. This, he was not expecting. And was she wearing anything under this robe, because it sure didn't feel like it. Down boy! he thought. After what she had been through, how could he even think that way? You'd think the intervening years since high school would have beaten some of the horny out of him. But it obviously hadn't, as he felt his jeans tightening.

"Buffy?" he tried weakly, attempting to maneuver her away from his flaring erection as her sobbing slowed. "Buffy, no offense, but you're getting me all wet." He flushed. Damn, that sounded bad.

"I'm so tired, Xander," she muttered indistinctly, face still buried in his shoulder. "Since I got back, I've just been so tired."

"Well, let's get you to bed, then," he said. He cleared his throat.

Buffy didn't move, just nodded.

"All right, then, but if I throw out my back carrying you, you're on your own for patrol tonight."

He dipped down and scooped her up, carrying her towards her room. Her face stayed burrowed into his shoulder. He kicked Spike's coat out of the way and it slithered down the stairs, landing in a heap next to the other bag of stakes.

Gently, he set her down on the bed. She refused to relinquish her hold on his neck and he almost toppled over onto her.

"Um, Buffy, you're going to have to let me go or I'm going to be in the bed with you."

She released him and turned her face into the pillow, choking back a sob. The movement opened her robe in a narrow V from her throat almost to her navel. Xander's breath caught, until he spotted a large bruise on her exposed sternum and his eyes narrowed.

"Did he do that to you?" he grated out, pointing.

Startled by his tone, Buffy gave up on hiding her face in the pillow and looked down. "Yes," she said softly. She looked up at Xander, eyes swollen and wet. He pulled a quilt over her, covering her from neck to toes. That, he hoped, would take care of his inappropriate physical responses. They were friends, he reminded himself sternly. Had been friends and only friends for years. What the Hell was wrong with him?

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" he asked, looking around for a box of tissue.

"Only in spirit," she whispered, turning over and whimpering in pain.

"Buffy, I love you, but could you please rejoin those of us in this world and stop being such a whiner?" Xander blurted. She flipped over to stare at him.

"What?" she demanded loudly. Better, he thought. He gave up his search for a tissue box and sat down next to her on the bed.

"You heard me. I know it was Hell, coming back here. Being dragged back here, basically. I know where you were and what we did. But you're here now. We all love you. But the martyr act is getting old."

"Martyr act?" she barked. Her face went from pale to flushed so fast that Xander wondered if she had any blood left anywhere else in her body. She sat up in bed and the quilt and Xander both fell to the floor. "Where the Hell do you get off telling me to stop whining, to stop acting like a martyr?" she snapped. "Still mooning after Anya, killing Spike in a fit of rage."

"Technically, he was already dead," Xander said, picking himself up off the floor and trying to shove the quilt at her.

"You bastard!" She ignored the quilt, apparently unaware that the robe was barely anchored by the belt and she was almost naked. Xander tried to look away, but, God, her body was incredible. Once again, he felt his pants tightening and managed to refocus his gaze over her head.

"Look, Buffy," he told the ceiling. "I'm not saying that I'm doing great at this either. But at least I'm not laying around feeling sorry for myself. We love you. But the Buffy we lost last year would never have allowed herself to become the person you are now."

Suddenly, his head exploded in stars and he fell to the floor, ears ringing. Buffy stood over him, the robe slipping off her shoulders.

"Oh, Xander, I'm so sorry!" she cried, dropping to the floor at his side, face in her hands.

Xander felt his jaw. Not broken. But he was going to have a lovely bruise. Maybe he could claim Spike did it when he was rescuing Buffy from the vampire.

"Buffy, I swear if you start crying again, I'm going to…" He couldn't think of anything appropriately dire. "Do something unpleasant."

Buffy giggled into her hands. The hands fell away from her face and she looked at him through the curtain of her hair. "Something unpleasant?" she repeated.

"Very unpleasant."

"Like what?" she asked, still peeking through her hair.

"I'm not sure," he said, struggling to sit up. "But I'll think of something."

"Why did you stake him?" Buffy asked, turning her face down and playing idly with her hair.

"Once again with the raping and evil," Xander sighed. "And because I hated him for what he did to you."

"And for what he did with Anya?" she added softly.

"Yeah, that too," Xander admitted heavily. "But mostly for the raping and evil."

He shook his head, then stopped when his jaw throbbed with the movement. He felt her gentle fingers run across the bruise and turned to look at her.

"Um, Buffy," he said.

"Yes?"

"You are…um…your robe has kind of…"

Buffy looked down, but didn't pull the robe back together. Xander thought he saw a flash of nipple as she turned back toward him.

"How long have we known each other?" she asked.

"Long, really long," Xander said, trying to scoot away from her but stopped by her hand on his knee. He cleared his throat. His voice seemed hoarse and the front of his pants seemed way, way too tight.

"How many times have you saved my life?" she asked, running her hand up his knee to his thigh and staring into his eyes.

"Don't know. Wasn't counting." He sounded like he had a bad head cold, or like his dad after the years of cigarettes. Suddenly, he figured out what was going on. "Buffy, stop it," he said, putting his hand over hers. "I know you're grateful, but you don't have to do anything like this."

"Xander, I was dead. You and Willow, you brought me back. Because you love me. Spike has been…a bad thing for me. Today, he could have killed me. You killed him. Because you love me. Maybe this isn't because of gratitude. Maybe I finally figured out that I don't just love you…I'm in love with you. And I think you're in love with me too."

She leaned in and kissed him. The kiss started out softly, then suddenly became hard, urgent, as she moved into his lap, arms once again around his neck. Xander's hands ran down her back. He felt her flinch, but she pressed harder against him. He flinched himself at that reminder of his swelling jaw. Fine pair we make, he thought. That was his last conscious thought for a long time.


	2. Chapter 2

Xander woke slowly, stretching in the darkened bedroom. He turned his head to find Buffy staring at him.

"Oh my God," she said softly. "It wasn't a dream."

"Sorry to disappoint," he said stiffly. He figured it was too good to be true. The Slayer declaring her love, seducing him. Seducing him! Now she regretted it and it was going to be one of those little secrets that never got mentioned again. Like Faith. He started to get out of bed, trying to hide his shame as he scanned the room for his pants.

Her hand shot out, grabbing his wrist and pulling him toward her. "No, you don't understand," she said, running her other hand over his face. "I'm happy it wasn't a dream." She giggled. "'Cuz it might not happen again if it was."

She kissed him and he sank back against her body incredulous. Some time later, she asked: "What are we going to tell people?"

"About this?" he asked, startled.

"About Spike, Xander," she said. "This is going to be out in the open so fast their heads will spin. But we need to explain Spike."

"You want to tell people about us?" Xander clarified.

She raised herself up on one elbow, looking down at him. "Of course I want to tell people about us. I may throw a parade to tell people about us. After all, two actual human people who used to date demons finally getting together should be worth a parade.

"What did you think? That it was going to be a secret?" she stared at him. "You don't want it to be a secret, do you?"

"God, no," he grinned at her. "I'm voting for the parade idea myself."

She giggled again.

"You know, I think that's the most I've heard you laugh since…" he stopped.

"Since I came back," she said softly, smiling one of the heartbreaking smiles that had made him follow her like a puppy in high school. "It's okay to say it. I know now I'll be okay. I have you, I have Willow and Dawn and Giles, and Tara and Anya…"

They stared at each other. "Anya!" they said together.

"Shit," Xander added. "Can we go back to 'secret'?"

"She's gonna go nuts, isn't she?" Buffy asked.

"That's for starters, I would guess," he said. "She may in fact go all vengency on both our asses."

He stared up at the ceiling. It had only been weeks since he left Anya at the altar. She was sure to assume that he and Buffy had been, uh, involved, prior to that.

"Maybe we should wait to tell anyone, for a while, at least," Xander suggested tentatively. He hated the idea of sneaking around. It reminded him of Buffy and Spike's secretiveness.

Buffy's bedroom door burst open, and Dawn stood there, framed in the light from the hallway.

"Buffy, Spike's coat is in the hallway and he's no where around and I found a bunch of stakes and OH MY GOD, Xander is in your bed!"

Xander scrambled to yank a blanket over himself, distinctly hearing a "What?" from somewhere down the hall. Sounded like Willow, he thought.

"Dawn, close the door," Buffy said.

"What is going on? Are you and Xander, I mean…What is going on?"

"Dawn! Close.The.Door." Buffy barked. The door slammed.

"I am not moving from this spot until I have some answers," they heard Dawn shout through the door.

"Dawnie, what's going on?" Xander groaned. It was Willow all right.

"Xander is in there with Buffy and they're both naked!" Dawn shouted.

"What?" Willow said. The door flew open again and Willow stood there next to Dawn, mouth hanging open.

"Willow, close the door, we'll be out in a minute," Xander said as calmly as he could.

"Darn right you will, Mister," Willow said. The door slammed closed again. Buffy and Xander looked at each other.

"I think you got your parade," he said. They both burst out laughing as they circled the room finding Xander's scattered clothes. He watched Buffy dress, marveling both at her almost feline grace and the fact that almost all her bruises had disappeared, except for one dark one across her lower back. His face darkened as he thought of what Spike had tried to do to her.

Buffy pulled on a shirt and crossed the room to kiss him. "Well, shall we face the band?" she asked.

"Sure we couldn't just stay in here?"

"We might need food, bathroom, things like that eventually."

Xander's stomach growled.

"Or now," she said, rolling her eyes.

"What about Spike?" he hissed at her as she opened the door. She looked back at him, and he was glad to see that the dark circles that had been ever present under her eyes since she came back were lightening.

"We tell the truth. To everyone, about everything," she said.

"This should be fun," he muttered under his breath. She took his hand in hers and led him out of the room.

Willow and Dawn were standing there, both with their arms crossed. Tara was hovering in the doorway of the room she had shared with Willow, small smile on her face. Xander looked at her. He had heard the two witches were back together. She winked.

"Explanations, please," Willow demanded, looking from Xander to Buffy.

"Well, you see, Will, it was like this," Xander began.

"Spike tried to rape me. Xander killed him. We realized we're in love with each other. We had sex. And now we need food," Buffy said. She pulled Xander past them and down the hall toward the kitchen.

Dawn and Willow looked dazed. Tara covered her mouth, turning laughter into a cough.

"When did Buffy start talking like Anya?" Dawn demanded of Tara. "Is this a sleeping with Xander thing?

"Wait, did she just say Spike is dead?"

"Did she just say they're in love with each other?" Willow asked Tara.

"Don't know, probably not, yes and yes," Tara said. "Taking the questions in order, that is."

Dawn and Willow looked at each other, then after Xander and Buffy. They could hear laughter floating up from downstairs.

"Whatever happened," Tara said softly. "I think it's a good thing. For both of them."

"I want answers!" Dawn shouted. She stormed down the stairs into the kitchen. And found herself staring into the muzzle of a gun.

"Ah, the Slayer's little bitch of a sister. You can go stand over there by Xander the Useless," said the man with the gun. Xander took Dawn's hand and pulled her behind him. Buffy was standing on the other side of Xander, in front of the back door.

"Warren, stop this," Xander said. "This is crazy. You don't want to do this."

"Crazy? Crazy?" Warren demanded. He screamed at Buffy. "You destroyed my gang, destroyed it, do you understand? You even wrecked my lair, you bitch."

Behind Warren, Xander could see Willow. The front door was behind her. Go, Willow, he thought desperately. Get help. But Willow crept forward, Tara behind her. Each of the witches had swords in their hands.

"So, who's going to be first?" Warren sneered. He moved the gun from Buffy to Xander to Dawn, who was huddled behind Xander's back. "I think we'll let the Slayer watch her sister die first."

He pointed at Dawn, who screamed and started walking out from behind Xander, eyes vacant. Xander grabbed her, but whatever spell Warren was using was strong, and he was pulled along with the teenager. Xander could see Warren's finger tightening on the trigger. He fought to shove Dawn back behind him. The gun banged, and Xander shoved Dawn into Buffy and they both tumbled to the floor.

"Xander, no!" Buffy screamed. Xander felt as if a club had hit him, hard, in the upper ribs, and he looked down to see blood pouring down his left side. He sank to his knees, holding his hand against his side as if to stop the blood. Warren laughed.

Suddenly, the swords the witches were holding leapt forward of their own accord, slamming into Warren's back and jutting out his chest. Blood burst from Warren's mouth and his spasming hand squeezed the trigger as he fell, the bullet smashing through the glass of the back door.

Damn, Xander thought, looking down at the blood. I really liked this shirt. All four of the women were screaming as he fell face first on the ground, parallel to the corpse of Warren Means.


	3. Chapter 3

Darkness. Silence. Then a humming noise. What was it? he wondered. Didn't sound like the generator at the job site. And if he was sleeping at the job site, he was in big trouble anyway. He heard voices, indistinct, then loud. Some jackass playing with the radio? Crying. Pleading. Someone explaining something so quietly he couldn't quite make it out. Then silence again.

The next time, he could see light, shining through his eyelids. He pried his eyes open with effort. He was so tired.

"He's awake!" he heard a woman scream. He knew her name. Anya. It was Anya. She was mad at him. He couldn't remember why. Or why she was crying now. He closed his eyes again and went back to the silence.

Voices came back clearer this time. Another woman's voice. Serious. Calming.

"You have to understand that your friend lost a great deal of blood. His lung collapsed and he was actually dead for some time. We were able to resuscitate him, but there may be brain damage from the lack of oxygen. He may never truly wake up. He's breathing on his own, but we'll have to insert a feeding tube if he's not awake in another 24 hours. The IV won't be enough."

"Hey, sick guy here," he croaked. Instantly his hand was enveloped in someone else's. Warm, he thought. Big. Not a girl's hand. "Giles?"

"Xander, thank God you're awake," he heard the deep British voice say. "I'm going to call Buffy."

Xander forced his eyes open again, squinting against the light. "Wait. Buffy loves me," he said. For some reason it was vitally important that Giles knew this. Giles leaned over him and he saw the Watcher smile fondly at him.

"No one has any idea why, Xander, but we all know," the older man squeezed his hand.

"And I love her," Xander insisted, as if Giles had not spoken.

"Yes, son, I know," the Watcher said. He chuckled. "I'm going to get her now."

Giles released his hand and disappeared. Son? Had the Watcher called him "Son"? Xander couldn't shake his head, it was too heavy. But he wanted to.

"Xander?" he heard a tentative voice say. It was Buffy. She took his hand.

"You were expecting someone else?" he managed.

She laughed and leaned over him, her face blocking the light. "If you ever, ever, ever jump in front of a bullet again, I'll….do something unpleasant," she said.

"Something unpleasant?" he asked, looking up into her tired eyes.

"Very unpleasant," she laughed.

"He was going to hurt you and Dawn."

"Well, now he's dead. And you were dead too, for a while."

"One more time and I'll catch up to you," Xander said, offering a tired smile. Buffy shook her head, her long hair brushing his face.

"Your friend needs to sleep now," said the voice that had been talking to Giles earlier.

"All right, Doctor." Gently, she leaned over and kissed Xander lightly on the mouth.

Xander clutched at her hand. "Wait, Anya, is she…?"

Buffy smiled. "You being dead defused any vengency thoughts she had. She is announcing loudly to everyone she meets that you deserve all the happiness in the world and if that's with me, she'll live with that. Then she went back to the store and counted all the money. Twice."

"What about everyone with Spike…? I thought Dawn would be…"

"She was and she is, but she also appreciates that you saved my life twice in one day. It's hard to argue with that. And Willow and Tara came very quickly around to being thrilled for us. And I love you."

"I love you too, Xander said. His eyes got too heavy to hold open, so he let them close.

"Miss, you really need to let Mr. Harris rest."

Mr. Harris. Xander snorted internally. It would take to much energy to snort aloud.

He felt Buffy's lips near his ear, her hair blanketing his face. "I owe you my life, and Dawn's life."

"You'll have to find some way to repay me," Xander joked sleepily.

"Oh, don't worry, Xander," she said into his ear. "I will."

Xander smiled to himself at the promise in her voice and drifted back to sleep, holding Buffy's hand.

FIN


End file.
